But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me. ” She batted his arms and slapped him, angrily twisting from his grasp. Because of the thought of love and companionship? No. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. Her eyes were insane with rage, crusted with yellow and green, only beginning to heal from her long sojourn underground. Look at the poor victim at your feet.
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